The Bruises

The bruises
   won't go away, permanent like the scars.
This time the mark of his hand,
   next time his belt?
I can't stop shaking,
   spilled the coffee and burnt the toast.
I shield my face,
   the anger in his eyes is hurting my soul.
Crash, break the bones,
   scar my mind and kill my spirit.
He can't help it, I tell myself.
   He just can't help it.
He leaves me, huddled on the floor,
   the blood, I need to clean it up.
He loves me, he does.
   I scrub the floor 'til it sparkles.
The bruises
   they won't go away.
Proof of his love,
   rests upon my body, broken and bloody.
Proof of his love,
   bruised and broken on the floor.